


taste of honey ; the beatles (modified)

by yellolemon



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, Complete, Fluff, Multi, Smut, and, book of oneshots teehee, enjoy x, no real indicator for which is which, there's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 22,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25518052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellolemon/pseuds/yellolemon
Summary: a little book of beatles stories!writings span from may-july 2020[in lowercase- apologies if that bothers you.]
Relationships: George Harrison/Reader, John Lennon/Reader, Paul McCartney/Reader, ringo starr/reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	1. john

the lovebirds  
༊  
'62

the evening rain battered down on the window, its heavy droplets muffled by the sound of sweet melodies. the sultry tune flooded the living room where a pair of lovebirds swayed side to side by the victrola. you had been trapped by the storm for hours and you had finally gotten the lovely grouch to dance after he'd been watching you perform so eloquently alone. he sauntered over to you languidly, surely sour that he couldn't take you out as planned, and welcomed your arms around his neck while his snaked around your waist. you'd been making goofy faces and playfully snide remarks to each other for a bit until john went quiet and sank his forehead onto your shoulder.

you rest your head against his collar and close your eyes. the motions grew a little slower, a bit sleepy, but just as rhythmic. he eventually drew closer to you, tightening his hold which caused a small smile to play across your lips. your eyes flutter open when you notice he'd began to leave lingering kisses along the smooth skin of your inner arm and you bite back a giggle as they ticklishly travel up to the fabric of your dress that covered your shoulders modestly. he takes his time on your neck, loving tongue grazing against your skin and bringing a fire to your cheeks.

"tell me you're mine" he whispers hotly against the shell of your ear and your lips part in an attempt to catch your fleeting breath. his voice had startled you, yet it aroused a sudden fluttering within you that had been brooding with each passing song that played and each warm gust of breath that came from his throat as your waists inched closer.

"i'm yours, john" you reply without hesitation and nearly choke out a whimper of pleasure when he nips at the delicate flesh below your jaw in response. your quivering hands press against his large shoulders more firmly as not to lose him, as not to lose your closeness. his wet lips soon meet yours with a passion equivalent to a sudden reunion with a long lost something.

"say it again" he urges between feverish kisses and you repeat it over and over so willingly, your two clinging bodies sinking to the carpeted floor.


	2. paul

in the kitchen   
༊  
'70

with the world spinning around so quickly, you had no time to wonder how you'd ended up on the kitchen counter; legs spread, white knuckles grasping onto its cold edge as your lace panties dangled helplessly from your painted feet. he was going mad against your heat, exposing you to his wet mouth without remorse. all you could hear was crazed lapping and gracious slurps while all you could feel was your stomach clenching and your entire body trembling as your sensitive clit was ravished over and over by paul's wonderfully consummate tongue.

it wasn't long before his bright brown eyes met yours and broke you out of your pleasure-filled haze. he was almost pleading in nature, as if he was wishing your soul would spread over his lips and wash over his entire face like he was sipping a refreshing glass of lemonade. his arched eyebrows furrowed so majestically in response to your incessant cries and whimpers that he so eagerly pulled from you.

you fisted his hair and felt that warm, wet nudging press harder onto your throbbing clit. he removes one hand from your thigh, slides it down your flowering folds and presses two gentle fingers up into you, resorting to sucking on that reddening bundle of nerves. you could almost cry at the feeling, almost cry at the sight.

"you're so pretty, paulie," you whimper, pressing your quivering fingers to your lips and rocking your hips against his mouth as his talented fingers seemed to stimulate each pulsing nerve within you. he let out an airy chuckle and lifted his head up slightly, displaying his drenched mustache and wild beard below.

"you're pretty," he replies with a sly smile and presses his fingers deeper into your familiar warmth.


	3. george

to the knuckle  
༊  
'66

it felt serene, his chest rising and falling against your back as your bare body lay between his legs, his lips planting warm kisses to your cheek and shoulder.   
"do you like that?" his voice mumbles so gently with the slow rhythm of his fingers sliding against your clit.

"y-yes" you stutter quietly, closing your eyes in desperation.

your thighs feel slick from a mixture of sweat and lust, grinding hips jolting forward into his touch, wanting more. his eyes remained on your body, surveying each upward curve and downward dip of the hips and breasts against him on the bed, all glistening with sweat from the intense heat of summer. the breeze from your window blew a sweet chill against your hardening nipples. you could tell by the way he squeezes your body to him that he wants to take it further now.

you tilt your head back against his shoulder and feel his kiss on your cheek again, a finger dipping further down to your welcoming entrance. his breath was suddenly shaky and he wrapped one arm around your chest to keep you close. as he slips in a finger up to the knuckle, he parts his lips in awe.   
"you're so beautiful... my beautiful girl"

the praise falls on you like a steady rain and you moan wearily, pressing one hand to both of his wrists and turning your head to meet his lips in a passionately heated kiss.


	4. ringo

dolly  
༊  
'64

"go slow, darling... let me see you..." he drawls, bringing his whiskey glass away from his lips. your eyes glitter at him from the end of the bed as you stand up again and place your hands along the silk belt of your robe, smiling devilishly.

he'd been waiting all night for this. you promised him that you'd model a new set that you'd acquired while he'd been away for so long. dragging the belt out of its bow, you open the robe slightly, exposing a sweet black lace that covers your breasts. his eyes darkened, his body grew visibly tenser with need.   
he wants to pounce and you can feel it from the way your hips instinctively react, swaying sensually as you lower the robe from your shoulders.

"i've missed your hands, ritchie..." you muse, breaking eye contact and dragging your finger down your chest. you bring your body closer to the bed and he perks up like an attentive puppy but you don't allow yourself to go any further.

the robe slides down your waist, then your hips and soon pools lifelessly at your feet, exposing the black lace panties to match. his tongue nearly falls from his mouth, his jaw completely slack. you let him gather his composure, running your hands over your own body, making such beautiful shapes and motions with your figure; putting on a show just for him.

you hear the glass settle on the bedside table and with a subtle scraping from his rings brushing the surface of the glass, you look up at him. licking over your lips you find it hard to suppress a giggle when he hums, "get over here"


	5. john

the farewell  
༊  
'79

"tell me you love me, john... will you?"

her voice was strained. there was no longer a flame in it. it had become a lonely spark of what it once was.

he stood in the front doorway. none of his formalities were lost. he was still letting that cold early morning air in, door hanging wide open to welcome the neighbors and passing press, perhaps. it was as if he wished she would freeze over. that her flesh would grow goosebumps and send her shivering body retreating back so he wouldn't have to answer to her.

even now, he barely gave a glance to her and held his duffel bag languidly against his thighs. his stature reminded her of a broken-down toy, the winding piece no longer fluid and quick, but jammed and stubborn instead.

he looked so exhausted. and she, she who waited on him had created too many splinters trying to carve her initials in his heart. she could only hope through wet, cloudy eyes that he had let even one scrape get past his chest.

she saw him wet his weary lips and lift his head. his brow still bent to the outside. through the corner of her eye she sees a dark car slide up the drive and blink its headlights. this startled her for there was still no word from him and their time was fleeting. he was going to make her run to him in some desperate, undignified way like he always did. despite her own childish refusal, she couldn't stand it if he hadn't given her at least one word.

some air passed through his nose and she could spot a slight twitch in his jaw as he spoke.   
"c'mon, come... come give me a kiss g'bye," he sighed gently, somewhat impatiently and she watched with a sudden pang as he gestured her to come to him as if she was some little girl.

her bare feet burned cold against the floor as she reluctantly made her way to him. his eyes looked so much sadder up close. he held so much pain in his eyes, tucked behind the glasses and contact lenses. her head turned up to him and she awaited her routine farewell. a gentle kiss and quiet goodbye. a part of her thought he hadn't heard her question. most of her knew he did. the chill was breezing directly through her now. he saw her shoulders shaking as she clung to herself. the way she would have clung to him in another circumstance.

love was hard. it brought him to her and it was going to take him away again. that heavy love for his art which was a fire that could never diminish. she could barely reach that flame, but he had always tried to remember to leave some of that warmth for her. for times like this when words get choked and lost.

a double honk from the driver interjected their thoughts. she jumped at the eruption. he wished he could have been better for her.

"john-" she said frantically, taking a hold of his arm with both stiffened hands, and to both their surprise he didn't flinch away from her. she was still so warm to him.

his eyes suddenly went bright and rapid as he stared into hers yet his voice was just as lowly as before,   
"if there is nothing else," she kept her everlasting grip on his arm as she hung onto his every syllable, "you must know that i do," he was beginning to pull away from her and with a pang of deep sadness, she sighed helplessly for she knew she was no match for his strength when he was urgent.

"you must know that i love you," he was halfway out the door when another round of blaring honks sounded, but in this moment there is only them. she believed him even if he's merely aiming to pacify her fears. she believed him even if the glimmering in his eyes will fade once he turns away from her. she believed religiously in those soft crescent eyes. her hands resided on his broad shoulders and she kissed his hard lips madly.

"goodbye," she whispered to him as he slipped from her grip. he'll call her later, he said. don't forget him, he said. she smiled in disbelief, tears stinging the corners of her lonely eyes.

he wasn't coming back.

he jogged to the car and turned back to give her a wave and she returned it gingerly, her body resting against the doorframe. when he disappeared inside and the tires screeched out of the driveway, she caught a couple of his kisses flying through the brisk air and planted one on her cheek and another over her sordid heart.


	6. paul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the one that started it all...

just like heaven  
༊  
old paul

he's working now. working late. and with every dip of his fingers against that instrument, my legs clench a bit tighter; with every eruption of those chords, a gasp escapes my lips. he's caressing the keys, a notorious sign of uncertainty. he is uncertain. as uncertain as the gentle padding of my feet down the darkened hallway. i'm driven by my longing, driven by the pulsing between my legs. the silk slides against my thighs and my heart thumps with the production of notes. of more sound, more sound. i've grown impatient.

here now in the doorway, it's as if i'd floated to this spot. i hardly remember the number of steps i took from our bedroom to the small studio nestled a few feet away. it serves its purpose primarily for nights like these when he's working late— got that bug in his ear that won't quit. as the routine goes, he'll eventually find his way back to the bedroom when he's finished and potentially get back up when the tune comes around again. i don't mind it as much, but oh it becomes so lonely at times.

my warm fingers rub the wooden frame of the door in an effort to touch something. he pauses, repeats, pauses, repeats. i follow his rhythm with the tapping of my fingernails, my toes digging into the hardwood. it sounds magical so far, but i'm not truly here for the beauty of the music.

go to him my brain urges but my doubt remains deep in my belly. i hold the premonition of rejection there, but i am so starving. my gaze flits from the grand writing desk to the piano where he holds himself so tautly to the array of guitars not far behind. only he could have a nook that felt so welcoming yet so his own— it felt wrong to intrude in it.

there's a nightly blue tone about the room. the darkness outside casts a cold shadow. i take a step further. how mousy and small i feel approaching a lion such as him. i go unnoticed. i am likely just a spirit roaming his quarters, absolutely invisible. as i leave the comfort of the door i wonder if i'll frighten him this way. should i make a noise?

but he feels me now. still searching for the right tune, he lifts his head and i can tell he's closed his eyes. he always awaits my touch. youthful hands to comfort his aged soul. i always revel in the idea of being his beacon of happiness, though it's foolish to believe in it wholeheartedly.

when my hands finally reach his shoulders, my palms grow accustomed to the warmth of his knitted sweater. i allow my hips to press desperately against his back and find release in the somehow gratifying contact. His lips brush my arm and a trapped breath leaves me.

"have i kept you up?" he asks. his voice radiates along my thighs, up my stomach and to my chest. i suppress the urge to rut childishly against his back.

"no... no. i enjoy it" my voice croaks. my nerves wash over me and i suddenly have no clue what to say. "besides... i couldn't sleep" is what i muster while i subconsciously massage his shoulders despite there being no notable tension. he is always so cool and tranquil. i suppose that would catch up to me with age.

he lets out a sigh and a nod as if to say "ah" and let his fingers run over the same chords again. i think to ask what he is searching for, but i don't believe he truly knows himself. even the great paul mccartneys of the world get lost in the chaos of ideas.

after a few moments, he pauses again and we breathe together. his shoulders lift with his back and my rib cage expands to accommodate before we exhale together in perfect harmony. my voice sounds high and airy, his still houses in his throat, much louder than mine could ever be. in the silence i readjust my fingers and speak softly. "can you show me your trick again?"

this arouses a chuckle of confusion from him and i keep myself pressed against him, hands sliding down to his biceps. his finger presses down on a key that rattles my core and i fight the shaking of my knees.   
"which trick, doll?" he responds, still not looking far to recognize me. he knows. he thinks he's so sly but i know he knows. how his fingers work so well. how skillful he is with me. i want to melt under his touch tonight.

with slight impatience, i whine a bit, squeezing his arms, "you know what, macca..."

"mm" is what i hear next. a hum to end all hums. i've caught him. "my sweet little girl" he says as he takes my hands in his and kisses my stuttering knuckles. "c'mere"

he allows my hands to fall back to me and i straddle the bench beside him. i'm surprised by my composure as i sit. the slip dress hikes up over my thighs to nearly expose the bare skin beneath. it's cushioned and comfortable here. i understand completely why he can sit here hunched over for hours and hours. i take his arm to bring it closer to where i need his touch most. he's eyeing me intensely. his lashes fall at my legs, my hips, my chest and back down. i squirm in anticipation and gather a moistness along my inner thighs. have i passed his assessment? i notice out of the corner of my beady eye that he has spread his legs to give way to his own growing need. it seems that i have.

my throat begins to conjure up a plea but i discard it and just tug at his arm some more. he senses my unabated desperation and takes pity,   
"will you forgive me for neglecting you?" he asks rather warmly, sliding his palm further up the skirt of the slip dress. as his fingers disappear, i allow my hands to release their grip from his arm and resort behind me on each edge of the bench. his expert fingers meet my clit in an instant and i suck in a breath, my hips inevitably twitching forward. this familiar touch is enough to send me. judging from the subtle circles he's making he's looking for an answer to his question, but i figure my now quickened breath will suffice.

there's a conflict within him. his eyes don't meet mine as he drags a single digit down my vulva and i shiver. he's got me memorized, he doesn't even need to look. though i am under his full gaze, his attention is divided. the tune is revolving around his head. he has to find it, but his darling baby needs him. i feel my cheeks redden as his eyes reach my face. i don't want him to stop. my eyes widen to convey my thoughts and a subtle shake of my head makes him grow smug. he's no fool.

a fingertip slowly glides around my entrance and i try to recognize which finger. he twists his wrist and gently presses it inside. middle finger. the ridge of his first knuckle brushes the roof of my heat. i tilt my head back and let out a moan of relief. his thumb reaches my clit and clings to the nerves there, the pressure he applies with each pump causes my legs to clench against the bench. i can tell he wants to make a remark about my rapid undoing, but he doesn't.   
"pretty thing" he whispers instead and i whine out something that resembles an expression of gratitude in response.

i bring my head back down when i hear a subtle twang from the piano. his eyes are back on the keys and he methodically adds a second finger inside me as he finds the mysterious chord and plays it. i feel every note explode inside my core and i grip the bench to stabilize myself. my moans grow louder as his movements grow faster and the tune comes easily to him now. such pretty sounds he makes. this feels so dirty. getting me off while we sit on his throne. working the piano keys as passionately as he's working me.

i force my weary legs to spread further as his third finger slips inside and curls against the roof of my walls. he's beckoning now. as if i have what he's looking for. the note that could settle this late-night inquiry. i curl my toes and grit my teeth to keep from bursting. my breathing goes uneven and he goes faster, thick fingers moving so skillfully. he's gotten the spot that makes my eyes roll back, that brings my orgasm to the forefront of my vision and he's caught it so quickly.

"'so good, paul" i slur blissfully and my back arches as noise gets caught in my throat. i feel it coming. my hips threaten to pull away from the pleasure that feels so direct and deep.   
"please don't stop" i gasp, bringing my legs up to get a better angle, nearly knocking one knee into the piano. he's enjoying this. the begging, the sounds, the praise. he's got me wrapped around his finger and he's not even looking at me.

his attention turns completely on me again as i let out a desperate whimpering of his name. our eyes meet and our lips part together. it's as if he's mocking me. belittling my need for him. i couldn't wait, could i? was so jealous of his fingers on the keys, loving on them more than me. needed something inside me, huh? i'd take anything, wouldn't i? the slight smirk on his face makes me turn my gaze away, but the quiet "c'mon" that leaves his lips brings me back to his loving eyes. he needs this just as much as i do. needs to see how badly i need him.

my orgasm pools at my hips and i grind against his fingers, chasing the high that is oh so close in front of me. please let me have it. please. i close my eyes and let out a howling moan before feeling his other hand grip my raised ankle and place it on his thigh, keeping my legs open. he's going to do it. "oh god" i whimper as he rubs the sweet spot just as he had told me about before. just as he had done before. the spot that made all the girls weak. the exact touch i craved; this was his special trick. just a few nudges send me over the edge and i feel on the verge of tears as my orgasm rushes out of me, my body convulsing intensely. i grab his arm tightly with an exhausted whimper when he begins to milk it and i notice his sweater sleeve is damper than before. a blush arises on my cheeks when i realize what i've done. what he's made me do. closing my eyes, i force him off with weak fingers and try to retrieve my normal breath. i am wary of moving too much as to not cause my body to jerk against the sudden hypersensitivity, but i'm even more conscious of the completely soaked bench beneath me.

his fingers and back of the hand are slick with my wetness and i gain a sudden burst of passion when i see him return to the keys nonchalantly, the tops of them beginning to glisten with my cum as he presses down in the same succession as before. i wrap my arms around his neck as he begins to play. i see him smirk, so rightfully full of himself now.

"oh, paul... come to bed. oh, please" i punctuate my begging with a sloppy kiss on his cheek. i start kissing and licking down his neck to which i earn a soft gasp. "love me..." i whine eagerly.

i lift my head when i feel him turn toward me and meet his lips with ease. he hums with delight and possible disbelief at my remaining energy. my hands reside in his soft hair, caressing the long strands as our tongues slide against each other passionately. he pulls away from the kiss slowly and chuckles at my exposed tongue.  
"easy now" he coos, dragging his finger against it. i take the digit in my mouth immediately, tasting every bit of me on him.

"go on to bed, i'll be there in a bit" he says and i humph in protest, putting my hand on his thigh.   
"uh uh" he scolds, starting to drag his finger from my mouth, but i move closer to him to avoid it,   
"be good now, yeah? and take this pretty little gown off or i'll have to tear it" he eyes me and i nod, letting him remove his finger now so i can smile triumphantly.   
i stand up and allow the straps of my nightgown to fall down my shoulders. he shakes his head lovingly and i earn a slap on the bum as i scurry out of the room giggling.

i'm sure i just exhaust him i think smugly as i strip quickly under the dim light of the moon.   
"i'm ready!" i call out and let a smirk play on my lips as i hear his deep sigh followed by the subtle clinking of his undone belt.


	7. george

blessed  
༊  
'74

to remember that night is to remember what seemed to be an entire lifetime of warmth and passion. a passion that rattles the bones of men and causes women to weep with unanticipated pleasure. it was something unlike any other experience you'd ever had. or ever could have again. months and months of tender yearning, of lips, bruised red and long, lingering embraces had led up to that night. it was beyond anything your mind could have thought up. beyond a first night. for days each glance toward his smiling face would cause you to turn away, blushing, for all you could do was remember it. it was the night that he gave you everything.

the night he showed you how to love.

the two of you had come back to his place for the rest of the evening after a long-awaited candlelit dinner where you both devoured an array of appetizers and small plates followed by a brilliant jazz performance at a local theater. all of it had made you rather sleepy, but he kept you enticed as always.

when you made it to his bedroom, the thudding from your heels was met with a perfect harmony of sighs as you finally released your feet from their grip and fingered around for the lamp switch along the bedside table. the light quickly shone around the room and you turned your head to a lonely burgundy case sitting on the bed.

you took it in your hands and placed yourself in its place on his rich duvet. the velveteen cover felt like butter beneath your hands. your mind racked around to figure out what was inside and simultaneously weighed the consequences of opening it on the occasion that it wasn't meant to be yours. pressing your thumb against the clasp, you decided to take a peek into it. as it opened, you caught a glimpse of a shimmering gold despite the darkness that occupied the space inside. a burst of curiosity got the better of you resulting in your finger lifting the top fully and glazing over a precious chain necklace that shined beautifully up at your face. your eyes softened and a smirk made its way upon your lips. it was so stunning that it put you in an absent trance.

so much so that you hadn't even noticed george standing casually in the doorway.

"do you like it?" he mused, the smirk apparent in the tone of his voice. any other time you would've jumped out of your skin in shock, but your eyes were trained hard on the gorgeous piece and all you could do was nod which he secretly found to be the most adorable thing he'd ever seen.

having taken off his own shoes downstairs, his socked feet padded against the floor to the bed. his tall body shadowed the box and caused you to look up at him. he'd put his hair behind his ears and was smiling down at you with bright eyes. you quickly met his smile with a grin and allowed him to take the box from your hands.

your eyes followed as he removed the necklace from its bed and admired it between his delicate fingers.

"it's yours," he said as he sat down close beside you. you had known that to be true and yet your cheeks still reddened at his words. and you knew he was looking at you. the same way he had been looking at you all night; you couldn't remember a time where his eyes left you beside this brief moment alone.

you turned your back to him and he brought the chain around your neck, clasping it together with ease. his warm breath lingered against your shoulder before he pressed a gentle, yet knowing kiss there. you turned your head slightly to acknowledge his touch and he kissed you again, his hands on your arms this time.

"i wanted to show you how much you mean to me," he murmured, ghosting his fingertips against your skin, "how badly i want you..."

you feel your chest cave slightly and move your head a little more, his nose pressing into your cheek.

"i want you too, george," you confessed, closing your eyes as his soft lips brush your cheekbone and then your ear. it was all the response he needed, the green light he had longed to hear for so long. you had promised yourself to him when the moment was right and he had promised the same. tonight it was going to happen.

you turned your body toward him again and he moved a hand to cup your face, your head immediately leaning into his homely touch. he was so quick to leave you breathless, you already felt heady with desire.

"i don't want you to be ashamed of anything," he said as he moved his face closer to yours, his stern features illuminated by the table lamp. you nodded slowly, staring back into his wonderful eyes. "every part of you deserves to feel loved."   
his lips hovered dangerously over yours and you surged forward, but he held you in place, "do you want to feel loved?" he whispered and you nodded again, mouth watering with desperation. 

"yes."

his thumb dragged carefully against your parted lips and caressed your chin and your cheek. "then allow me to love you." his voice was like silk draping over your whole body and all you could do was quiver beneath his gentle touch. you welcomed his lips graciously, sighing into his open mouth as he kissed you with a steady fervor. his tongue graced your bottom lip and then your own tongue slowly. it felt wet and thick as he explored your mouth with precision.

the familiar butterfly feeling quickly traveled south as it expanded in your stomach and dropped into your hips like a red hot light.

one of your hands made it to his knee, palms growing wet against the thick material of his trousers as he whispered sweet affirmations against your swelling lips. he pulled away and you looked at him through doe-like eyes, unsure of what to do without his touch. he made you turn around again for a moment as his fingers tugged down the zipper of your little cocktail dress. his lips met your neck as he moved the straps of the dress down your shoulders.

"your body is a beautiful thing... it's important to cherish it..." his hands pressed against your shoulders and his thumbs massaged the rosy skin beneath his fingers.

"to worship it," he said, turning you back to him and kissing your neck tenderly. you'll never understand how he swept you off your feet this way, how you became so comfortable with him- so much more than anybody else you'd given yourself to. this time was different. this time was special.

his fingers brushed your neck with the time of his kisses and a quiet moan escaped your lips when his tongue moved up your neck to your jaw. with another wet kiss to your ear and then your cheek, you were gasping along with each movement. the pulse developing in your core was beginning to melt into your thighs and knees. if you were forced to stand now, you'd collapse on the spot.

he seemed to sense this and took his hand down your chest to your knees before teasing them along your inner thigh. he watched his hand as you twitched against his touch and you watched his face, completely entranced by his beauty and composure. he didn't go any higher in the moment, though. he just rubbed against your knees and thighs, feeling the flesh grow pink and soften. when he finally reached your panties, you sighed in relief, spreading your legs for his fingers to rub generously.

humming, he brushed his nose against your cheek and let your quiet whimpers float to his ears as he pressed gentle circles around your clothed clit.

"i've wanted this for so long..." george moaned and you parted your lips to respond, but he shushed you and laid you down slowly, bringing both hands up to cup your face and ravish your lips with another embrace. your dress hiked up on your hips as you spread your legs for him again, his hand dipping down to feel between your thighs while his warm mouth closed around your breasts over your dress.

as his kisses lowered, you became more responsive, nearly shaking as his head went between your legs. he slipped his finger beneath your underwear and ran it up and down your slick folds. how badly he wanted to taste you, it was written all over his face.

"are you tingling?" he asked, fingers slowly exploring around your entrance.

"all over my body, george" you gasped, squeezing your hands on your thighs as his finger slid into you slowly, his other hand moving your underwear to the side.

his eyes were beady with lust and you could feel him reach every part of you from the inside. adjusting his wrist, you felt him twist and pump his finger deeper causing you to moan. he leaned his body forward, brushing your noses together as he pressed another finger into your warmth, never breaking eye contact. you panted quietly against his lips, the pleasure sending deep vibrations up and down your body.

"baby..." he whispered, fingers still moving carefully, "may i taste you?"

your face flushed as you nodded eagerly. he moved his hand back and removed your dress fully, admiring every inch of your body as it was exposed. he slid off your panties with ease, leaving you naked in front of him. sitting upright, you helped to pull his shirt off him and attached your lips to his bony chest and mouthed along his torso, holding onto his body and tasting the heavy aroma that bled from his sweet skin. he radiated sheer love, something you wanted. something you craved.

"you're so sweet," he praised with a warm smile, his voice deep and accent thick on his tongue. he cupped your face again and leaned down to kiss you, "lay back."

you did as he said and allowed your naked skin to revel in the cool touch of his sheets. he arched his back down between your legs and indulged in your scent, closing his eyes as he dragged his tongue around your vulva and curled at your sensitive bud. your hips jolted and you moaned shakily, the pressure from his hot mouth suddenly becoming too much to handle. his thick waves fell around his face and tickled the insides of your thighs as his head bobbed slowly while humming his innate delight against your skin.

before long, you wanted him badly. all of him; everything. but he was devouring you blind, rendering you totally speechless. his fine hands ran across your thighs and rubbed compassionately at your hips. you felt yourself grind shamelessly against his tongue, gathering tingles from his mustache which instantly sent almost frustrating waves of pleasure to your groin.

"oh, george... oh, darling," you whined, your orgasm close behind you and quickly shooting down to your heat. you clung to the golden chain that sat on your chest subconsciously, gripping it so hard it nearly stung from the heat of your sweaty palm. he sucked a deep breath in through his nose and focused his tongue right where you needed him, flicking wildly over and over.

you clenched your stomach and arched your back, grabbing onto his bare shoulders and allowing each muscle to slowly release as your orgasm flushed out of you. george continued to lap at you obediently through your high, staring up at you from beneath his dark lashes.

he could hardly believe how beautiful you were in that moment. he wanted to keep you like this forever, wanted to frame this image of your glistening body panting through ethereal lips.

you brought him up to you and the taste of your lust flooded your senses as you shared another amorous kiss. your smell was almost intoxicating and you gasped, pressing your hands to his back to pull him close.

he fiddled with the button and zipper of his jeans and shoved them down. he sat back and pulled his legs from his pants before tugging off his underwear to expose the dark curls beneath his clothes. your eyes lowered, though, at the sight of his erection, pulsing and thick with blood. he crawled back over and sank down on top of you, lips caressing your cheek calmly.

being naked with him evoked a feeling you couldn't describe in words. chest to chest now, his warmth was comforting. the sharp grooves of his hipbones against yours made your stomach flutter and every hair that brushed against you tickled in the best way.

you returned sweet kisses of your own to his cheek and his ear, humming once he swayed his hips gingerly. in that moment, you loved him more than anything.

his fingers skimmed your skin as they traveled between your bodies and he worked to settle himself at your entrance. you pulled your legs up against his waist, toes curling in anticipation.

his first thrust inside instantly filled you with deeply gratifying pleasure. subtle pinks and blues danced across your vision and your cheeks burned with devout longing. your lips parted and his breath hitched as you enveloped your warmth around him. he spread you wider as his hips rocked gently against yours. his hands caressed the sheets beside you while he stayed close, hair dangling around your faces.

you watched as his eyebrows furrowed and he barred his teeth and moaned, your own sounds mixing with his as he pushed into you so delicately.

"i love you," he cried out quietly, hips thrusting deeper, tenderly grazing your sweet spot. you grabbed onto him and kissed his shoulder, eyes rolling shut.

"i love you too," you replied as best as you could and you meant it, promised it.

within a few moments, his name was the only word you could muster, was the only word you knew. it spilled from your lips as he plunged himself into you, confident and strong. he was close. his muscles tensed and retracted, his breathing became ragged against your ear. you made him unforgivably weak, but it felt so good.

"let it go..." was what said through a broken whisper as your walls clenched around him and his love shot wet ribbons into your core. his sloppy thrusts that followed were enough to send you over the edge again and you pulled desperately at his back, letting out deep sighs of pleasure.

when your bodies stopped and he'd softened within you, he pulled out slowly, gently. you moved his hair behind his ears and cupped his head, staring up into his eyes. he kissed your forehead and your nose before smiling and pecking your lips.

your lips twitched into a smile, "blessed... i am so blessed" you said and brought him down to kiss you again, your head buzzing with absolute love.


	8. ringo

bad first date  
༊  
teddy boy rings

i turned my head back once more to bid ringo good night but was met with a tuft of hair facing the other way instead. he shifted his head slightly and i made out the outline of his round nose and thick lips, could see his eyelashes quietly rise and fall against his cheek. his face was sullen and grey under the rows of street lamps that lit the darkened pavement and though his hands were deep in the pockets of his overcoat, i could tell he was fidgeting with his rings. it was written all over his hunched frame that he was disappointed.

i released my hands from my door and rubbed them against my own coat, pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth as i stared at him with a look not quite like pity, but still riddled with concern.

"richard... it's okay," i said timidly, taking a small step toward him. my eyebrows furrowed as he remained unmoved, shrugging me off and returning his gaze to the ground. the silence was so thick either one of us could bang our fist on it and it'd remain unscathed.

i noticed his mouth beginning to try and string some sort of sentence together that might impress me or woe me or make me forget his evening of adorable clumsiness. his frustration and stress, which had been accumulating within him all night, was quickly bubbling up inside. the pallor that normally drained his face began to darken to a reddened hue.

"y/n, i'm sorry..." he finally mumbled, a sniffle following his trail of words. he kept his eyes fixed on the ground and dug his booted heel into the pavement. "i just wanted to... to show you a good time... i wanted to be good..." 

i tilted my head slightly and frowned, "who's to say i didn't have a good time? sure, we got caught in the rain, drenched our movie tickets, spilled most of our soda, and got lost in the park for a little while, but-"

"sounds pretty lousy..."

"it wasn't-" his eyes darted toward me in an almost accusatory manner and i shut my mouth before looking down at my shoes which had been dirtied trudging through the park. i couldn't help but feel a blush fall on my cheeks when he looked at me. i was excited to just hold his attention for a few moments let alone an entire evening. i could tell he wanted me to see something in him, too. he wanted me to see that he wasn't some hoodlum asshole like most people say. i was charmed that he would even like me that much to try something so bold.

"alright... it was a lousy date," i sighed and lifted my face to look at his which was now fully turned to me for the first time since he'd walked me home. he was searching me, reading into my expressions with deep, sad eyes. him holding such an inquisitive look on his face made me hesitant to open my mouth and interrupt him. i moved a bit closer and touched his arm gently, holding him with both hands. he watched me stiffly, eyes still gazing down into mine.

"but there's always the second date..." i piped, offering a small smile. i watched as his face softened and his eyes became hopeful and young.

"you'd... you'd let me take you out again?" he replied, his voice soft, the stale odor of cigarettes lingering on his breath. pulling myself a little closer i nodded, my smile growing wider at his sudden interest.

"is- is next friday alright?"

"next friday's perfect," i nodded again and let go of his arm to walk backward toward my door. he looked mildly satisfied as he glanced toward the next block over where he had to walk to get himself home.

"alright..." i heard him murmur and when he glanced back up at me again, he removed a hand from his coat and gave me a short wave, "well, goodnight, y/n."

"goodnight," i replied shyly and returned the gesture. he had already begun to walk into the night when i'd quickly turned my gaze back to the street. "ring- richard?" i called hesitantly, clenching my fists.

with an abrupt turn, i saw his brooding face again and for the second time that night, i caught a glimpse of all of him. i was surely left charmed by his level of composure during all this. i wouldn't have expected this to be a guy who'd just been sulking over a girl he fancied.

"would you... would you like to come inside? wait with me until my parents get home?"

i hated being alone on the nights that my parents worked late like this and i would hate even more for ringo to have to stay out in the chill any longer with those damp clothes.

"oh, i couldn't, i-"

"please?"

i saw a flash of hesitation come over him before a subtle smirk appeared on his lips that had the power to make my knees buckle. he dug his hands into his pockets again and breezed up to me. his brutish façade automatically lifted again as i gave him a warm smile and finally unlocked the door, welcoming him inside.


	9. john

jewel  
༊  
'64

she was adorned in fierce golds. they devoured her. from her glistening fingers to the curves of her painted lips, she glimmered.

hands extended far out, she greets wide-toothed producers who stutter and chortle and stare unabatedly at her. their touch lingers on her slender fingers, green and ruby rings running jagged against their fat thumbs. they want to know how she afforded her grandeur. they ask of her lineage, hint at her escapades, rub her back greedily. she just laughs at them.

it was heartily sardonic laughter that they couldn't decipher. it starts at her belly, bubbles up to her ribs, simmers at her lavendered shoulders, and tumbles out of her proud lips.

another black suit hands her a cold drink that she takes with a delicate hand, wrapping one arm around her royal waist. she was alone at this party.

he noticed her then as he did any woman; a taunting physique for him to play with. fine legs shielded by a tight skirt, hips curved into her silk blouse, neck thin and covered in pearls. she took a sip and pretended she was nobody.

by chance their gazes met at once, her keen eyes soon boring into him once she got a better look at her admirer.   
guileless, strikingly intelligent, deeply compelling.

a Beatle.

as he studied her further he wished, under primal instincts, that those eyes would fall beneath him, writhing and pleading upon an array of colorless bedsheets that would smell of fir musk and daffodil petals.

voices echoed everywhere around him, soft hands brushed at his arms as people shimmied around his body to get to the other side of the ballroom. the space was large, high ceilinged, large arches all around the walls. you could hardly hear yourself think for everyone seemed to be shouting. trying to touch the ears of the painted cherubs that struck love-spell arrows into the backs of gods on the ceiling. he was thoroughly enjoying it all, though. the endless invitations to these fanciful get-togethers piped his head so large he thought it'd pop! and all he had to do was make naughty quips and shake sweaty hands all night.

she looked bronze under the twinkling chandelier above their heads. there were two more just like it on either side, but this one was theirs. he smiled at her and she winked. then she was gone as an undertow of old money swept her away and left an empty table in her place.

he blinked and knitted his eyebrows together in a wave of absolute confusion. he hadn't noticed his perspiring until the hypnosis was lifted. droplets of cold sweat ran down his suited back to the leather of his patented boots. it was hot. he needed some air.

"oi, johnny! where've you been?" a drunken paul slurred at him, calloused hands pawing at the front of john's chest to keep himself steady. he'd probably already laid three women by now and was steaming for more attention.

"i'll be outside," he replied, hands on paul's shoulders who raised his eyebrows quizzically, leaning his ear into john's face.

"outside," he repeated with a rough emphasis and moved paul out of the way. he swerved through a tremulous sea of rattling jewelry and snobby old men grunting about nothing before he reached the doors to the outside and welcomed the chill of the night against his beet-red face.

his journey to isolation was short-lived, though, when his eyes locked on a sighing body puffing sex through a long cigarette. there was nobody around them, not for a good few feet or so. he had more confidence when he got the impression there would be no interruptions.

"have you got a light?" he called to her, digging his hands in his pockets in an over-exaggerated manner that made him look a bit foolish.

"no," she replied smoothly, flicking sparkling ashes beside her on the ground. he stared at her painted feet displayed in a stylish kitten heel. she dragged the sole back toward the wall self consciously, noticing his subtle interest.

"you're john," she said and he looked up immediately in surprise at her certainty, crooked teeth peeking out from between his thin lips in a recognizing smile. their eyes met again and she dazzled him unrelentingly with her feline stare.

"brilliant songwriter, hot-tempered... tall..." she veered, her eyes following his face as he approached her finally, hands still in his pockets. she gazed upon him, surveying him from his eyes all the way down to what she could see below the knee. he was deathly close.

she stuck the cigarette in her mouth again, holding it between her two fingers. her lips formed a tight hold around it as she inhaled, red cheeks hollowing. he stiffened a little and licked the inside of his own cheek. when she blew the smoke out, she turned her face away from him.

"you seem to know a lot about-"

"i read the papers," she quipped with a subtle shrug, unable to hide the inevitable smirk that was forming on her face as it reappeared into his piercingly unwavering view. it was true. not a day went by that an edition of the daily mirror wasn't tossed onto her desk in disgust with a front-page story of the fab four.

"get sam dean on the phone!" her boss would screech, hands fisting the air in a raging tirade and she'd flip through the pad of numbers smeared with various lipsticks and nail polishes.

she worked at a rival record company in london, a very bitter, sniveling place with the beatles now on the scene. her boss would likely have her head sawed in a guillotine if he spotted her conversing with the very face of what caused his rapid decline in the industry.

their fingers brushed as he took the liberty of stealing the cigarette from her grasp. completely unbeknownst to him, it had already burned silver ashes into his polished shoe. he took it between his lips and furrowed his eyebrows, unfamiliar with the filtering. there was barely any taste.

"will you let me take you out?" he asked, smoke pouring from his lips as he leaned in close to her ear. she dodged the vaporous onslaught and coughed, scrunching her face.

"you can learn some manners first," she scoffed and fanned the air around her until it was cleared. he grimaced, dropping the cigarette and twisting it out beneath his heel. his lips ran dry and he licked them, turning his head away in embarrassment. she took note of that and adjusted herself so she could return to the warmth indoors.

he felt her arm glide against his chest, ringed fingers dancing about his frame and settling below his navel before sliding away in a teasing sort of swiftness. she knew anatomy, he thought.

he turned on his heels when she passed him and watched as she strutted to the door. all of that and he hadn't even asked for her name.

"you owe me a cigarette," she said matter of factly and it felt as if her tongue was dragging along the delicate shells of his ears. he could feel his knees quivering beneath him, but he nodded coolly, a hand ghosting over the spaces that she previously caressed.

she was as polished then as she was when he first laid eyes on her. with a curt nod, her figure disappeared behind the walls of the building and the door slid closed at a painfully slow rate, barely making it to the lock when it burst open again and a band of three unwieldy men came battering out.

"boy, she was stunning!"

"absolutely marvelous..."

"and those hips-"

their eyes all reached john at the same time and each familiar face popped the same unspoken question all at once. john just shook his head and sighed, eyes dropping to the mangled body of tobacco and ash that had been rolling around submissively beneath his feet.


	10. paul/george

ménage á trois  
༊   
'63

all you could do was moan as paul's hand slips around your neck and his warm lips ghost against your ear, drunken breath coating the low, rasping words of his arousal.

"keep your eyes open, love, let him see you..." he says and you lull your head slightly, leaning it against paul's cheek for a sense of his touching reprieve. every inch of your liquefied being felt like it was being touched by beautiful, tantalizing hands. it was musky between the two of them with you between paul's legs, polished nails digging into his clothed thighs and george between yours, pounding into you relentlessly. neither of them bothered to fully undress, leaving you as a naked damsel subjected to their every desire.

paul had decided on this lascivious endeavor considerably early in the evening. he clasped the small of your arm and pulled you to his hip, whispering for you to spot george in the familiar crowd of people that occupied the party you two were hosting. you saw his thin figure dressed in a marvelous suit, juxtaposed languidly between two couples who were tittering and talking excitedly with their arms despite balancing full glasses of french champagne between their twitching fingers. he had already been watching you, glinting at you with the eyes of a tempted chasseur. you were quick to accept.

the three of you shared cigarettes and exchanged lingering touches throughout the night as the guests filtered out little by little, patting paul on his tipsy cheeks and kissing you on the jaw when they made their way to the door. none of them noticed the way you were positioned on george's lap, his thumb rubbing your waist, hand squeezing around your hips with thin fingers that you knew you could make do with. paul's hand was crawling furtively up your leg and you whirred in delight, slicking your upper lip with your tongue as he winked at you. he was enjoying drinking the sight of you in as you lounged on his best friend's lap, arching your back with the air of a bedazzled queen.

paul couldn't get enough of it, relishing in the waves of your precious cries as george shifted his hips down and fucked into you. your thighs convulsed as george spread them open, his mouth gaping, maudlin red tongue slipping back and forth against his bottom lip beneath his row of hellish teeth.

paul's hand cupped your jaw now and you writhed helplessly beneath george's gripping eyes. "you're so beautiful, sweetheart," he moaned, kissing your cheek, his gentle teeth scraping against your skin absently as his eyes flitted to george who was in complete bliss inside you. it was stunning the way he could last for so long and you had already been subjected to one cosmically gratifying orgasm under the hands of your raging lovers with their powerful, fleeting guitarist fingers. you wondered, through a dizzying carnality, how long george's unspoken yearning rang true. how long had paul known that just the picture of you could make the poor boy twitch in his stiffly-fitted trousers?

the rapid tumbling of your second orgasm was drawing nearer as hot rings of unbelievable pleasure were pulled from your aching core and you yelled out for paul, grabbing a hold of the thin sleeve of his collared button-down. he didn't respond right away, but you could feel his smirk brewing as he turned his lips to you again.

"mm... that's not his name, birdie."

george groaned at that, his gaze falling upon you and your naked breasts heaving against your glistening chest. you felt his stare and it startled the vixen in you that welcomed him into your bed in the first place. you had to make him cum.

you moaned his name, called for him, pleaded for his release inside you and paul encouraged you eagerly, stretching his arm down your torso and dancing his fingers around your swollen clit. george's face quickly contorted beneath the clinging strands of sweaty hair, his thrusts coming with far less conviction and structure as the lightness of his first orgasm grabbed at his undulating hips.

"kiss me, george," you whined, reaching out blindly for him.

"yeah, kiss her, george, go on, kiss her," paul egged, crazed desperation riddled in his voice.

his lips crashed down onto yours, the two of you becoming a mess of sweat and hair, tongues pushing against each other, reeling for the fulfilling taste of whiskey-coated spit. paul's hand flew to the back of george's head, keeping him on top of you as he banged out his last few pumps. a shaky moan escaped his lips as he shot up into you, his whole body quaking ruthlessly.

paul cooed at the two of you and let go of his hold on george so he could pull away and admire the satisfying drip of his cum between your parted legs. you gathered the strength to sit up and paw at george, a sleepy giggle leaving you as you kissed him thankfully. a pair of lips caressed your back as you did this and soon the accompanied hand was in your hair, pulling you back from the embrace.

"you know what i think, baby?"

"what's that, paul?"

"we should show george how good you are at taking it from both ends..."


	11. ringo

a friendly visit   
༊  
'64

white. everything was remarkably white as you dashed through the wide hall of hospital rooms. a hand directed you into one nearby and you only managed to thank its fingers before it zipped away to address another doctor.

a bundle of thick red roses brushed your cheek as you came inside the room and you swatted the bunch away with a startled giggle. ringo recognized instantly that it was you and beamed with a sudden joy only a homesick lover would know as you made your way into his view.

"what did i do to deserve such an honor?" he boasted, striped arms hoisting themselves into the air. "the princess herself has come to visit me!"

you rolled your eyes childishly and flashed an unmistakable smile of flattery. you had missed him and his endearments dearly, there was no doubt about that. you made your way to him and maneuvered your hips and shoulders around the maze of various boisterous bouquets and glistening chocolate tins— all incredibly fragrant and touching to see. gifts were flooding your apartment by the dozens and there seemed to be hundreds more of the cute little trinkets lined against the foot of his bed here.  
it was foolish to forget that an entire world was missing him right now. especially with the screaming wave outside that you successfully dodged without any noticeable bruises. you were surprised that the staff could man every guest that came in without having to assist them with a trampled leg or mangled arm.

"its a wonder that my prince is still so excited to see me," you replied and punctuated the words with a sweet kiss on his cheek. "even when he's got such pretty nurses," you eyed him, adjusting his blanket a bit.

waving you away, he scoffed and scrunched up his little face, "none of them are you."

he leaned up and captured your lips in a lovely, lingering kiss. you reveled in the delectable sleepiness that came with the tender embrace of his pillowy lips.

"george came to see me," he said against your lips and you placed a hand in his hair that was still riddled with the remnants of sleep, swopping over his eyebrows and tickling your eyelashes.

"oh, i know. he called me," you hummed as you pulled away and readjusted the blinds on the large window in the corner so a bit more light could come in. as you extended your back up to twist at the rod, he took the opportunity to run his hands up and down your figure in his mind, completely entranced.

"told me all about your little card game..." you spun around and happened upon his goatish smile as he leaned back against his pillow with a soft gust of air. charmed, you walked over to the bedside again and carded your fingers through that same head of fluffy hair instinctively.

"they've been treating you okay?" you asked softly, though you knew that he was getting nothing less than a reception most suited for a king. in some ways you were jealous. getting your tonsils out never made you feel this comfortable and celebrated.

he just nodded and took your wrist delicately in his hand, kissing your palm. you simpered, trading his titillated kisses for a gentle squeeze on his thigh. every bone in your body fought to keep your heels on the floor as opposed to succumbing to the less graceful desire to climb into the creaky little bed with him, as he might have liked.

he didn't stop you when you pressed your touch further up his thigh and ghosted soft fingernails over his hip, leaning over him to pepper his face with amorous kisses. a familiar height grew beneath your hand as you caressed him above the thick blanket, a twitch striking your inner thighs as you remarked his seemingly neverending length. his lips met yours with a gasp, hand finally gripping the fluttering fingers in his lap with an abrupt chasteness, intertwining them.

"i promise i'm all yours as soon as we get home," he hushed, almost apologetically and you nodded your understanding, bringing his knuckles up to your lips tauntingly.

touché.


	12. john

at the drive-in   
༊  
teddy boy john

his eyes were on you. despite the marathon of intriguing american movies that played before you, he found the prospect that came with the upturned curve of your lips as they puckered below your nose way more entertaining. in his defense, he thought that the few shorts that played before the feature were quite interesting, but it soon grew dark and the rest of the cars in the drive-in rolled up their windows and turned out their beaming white headlights, in search of a different sort of heroic thrill.

john was no different than those other ambitious lovers. and you had to admit that the weight of his arm as it slid across the back of your neck and guided your body closer to his made you slowly cross your legs at the ankles. you rubbed your sneakered heel against your shin in an attempt to relieve bottled tension, but that only fluttered your desires even more. soon, john's hot breath lapped at your ear and you could no longer ignore his muted appeal for attention.

"what are you thinking about?" he wondered, knocking his forehead against the side of your head gently. your eyes were still trained on the ravishing woman, garnished with pearls and dark shiny curls, on the screen, and that's probably why he asked. your fascination lingered freely on the way that she stared at the dark beau who played her confidant with a searing passion. as if she wished to be completely devoured.

"her..." you gasped quietly as his upper lip feathered against the shell of your ear, barely kissing you, but still spreading that ticklish warmth all along the tips of your pulsing nerves, all growing red with exigence. he chuckled at your response, but you volleyed his question back to him before he could make a comment.

he shifted beside you and your eyes finally broke from the screen when his knee brushed yours and you noticed he had spread his legs the slightest bit.

"you," he answered, confidently.

his arm slipped down from around your shoulder and you turned your head to look at him. he smirked, staring longingly at your lips now that he could witness their shape in full. the two of you were close, silhouetted by the light of the droning projectors that stuttered out the pictures behind your row of cars. it was all so fast, the way that the reels spun around and around, expelling heat and energy to explode against the large white tarp for all the city to see. you were delighted to be here with john, experiencing the same excitement as the little machine showing those beautiful faces confess amorously to each other in the name of love and hollywood.

as the orchestra weaved music of passion and intensity behind the romantic scene, you closed in on him and allowed your lips to touch finally, pressing feverishly to one another as he exhaled deeply through his nose. the strings crescendoed as his long tongue painted yours with remnants of tobacco and fizzy cola and you moaned, deepening the flavorful kiss. both of your hands found his arms and his found your hips, his lengthy fingers stretching beside you to cup your thighs. when he pulled away, you sighed and kissed the corners of his now glistening mouth eagerly and he held you, gliding his lips against your cheek and jaw.

"will you do something for me?" he asked, breathless and itching for more.

you met his eyes again and nodded slowly, though he sensed your apprehension in the subtle twitch of your mouth. you had always told him what a good girl you were, that you had never gone all the way with a boy before. he was patient with you, always asking to be sure of respecting your boundaries, never going farther than you were comfortable with. your chest heaved as he assessed you again and he reached up to hold your face, dragging his thumb against your lips. a heat flew up to your cheeks and colored them in a telling shade of arousal.

with a slight push, the taste of sweat and leather flooded your mouth. he had pressed his thumb past your teeth and you unconsciously accommodated by sealing your lips around his finger and flattening your tongue against it, as if you knew what he was after all along. though you had an inkling of where his mind was leading, he made it properly known to you as he parted his lips, awestruck by the enveloping softness, and pushed his thumb deeper, your fingers wrapping around his large hand as you adjusted.

"will you give me head?" he asked when he finally gathered his composure again, the soft suckling noise filling both of your ears as he thrust back and forth into the salivating ardor of your mouth. the pleasure that arose in his eyes as he observed your innocent siphoning made you weak, your breath becoming unsteady as the underside of your tongue ran smooth along his fingernail.

without much reluctance, you agreed silently and nodded again. your neck was hot as he pulled his finger from you and began to unbuckle his belt, slipping it from the loops and dropping it by his feet with a loud clink. your toes pressed to the soles of your shoes as you watched him nervously. it became apparent to you, then, the difference between an erotically hormonal fantasy and actually coming face to face with it.

he leaned over and kissed you again as he pulled down his pants and you clasped your hands in your lap, pressing them to your thighs. not seeming to notice your hesitance this time, he took your hands a moment later and guided them to his stomach, asking you to feel him. you broke the kiss as your fingers curled below the waistband of his boxers, your eyes moving to the bulge hidden beneath the black cloth. you exposed him slowly, his naked erection laying against his groin above a bed of unwieldy curls.

"john..." you whispered, the film's rain of haphazard gunfire returning to your conscious as he placed his hand at the back of your neck readily.

"it's okay," he said and nuzzled his nose in your hair, "if you don't want to do it, we don't have to."

you shook your head, "i do."

you were just worried it wouldn't be good for him. you wanted to impress him more than anything, you liked to make him feel good. you liked to make him happy and you were eager to learn how he liked to achieve that happiness best. as you leaned over slowly, supporting yourself with your elbow, you sank your head down and grasped his shaft gently. the surge of pulsing that entered your palm as he came alive against your touch produced a shock of heat down your stomach. he was warm in your hand and when your lips met the tip, you felt his pleasant firmness caress you. he hummed encouragingly, your breath radiating against his sensitive nerves as you kissed him, becoming acquainted with the shape of his thick muscle.

his hand shifted from your neck to your back, but his head still tilted toward your face, watching with bright eyes as you took him in your mouth and wet his skin with your tongue. you closed your eyes and sank a little deeper, gathering a throbbing vein beneath your bottom lip. as you came back up, he gasped and dragged his fingers down your spine causing you to shiver. your moistened lips teased his head before sliding back down again, tightening your lips confidently, wanting to hear him moan for you. when he did, it was almost immediate, his head tilting back in his own state of holy rapture. he was pleased with how naturally it came to you, how beautifully you took him, watching the warm spit dribble from the corners of your pretty mouth.

when you released him, his hips bucked in agony, the heat abandoning him as quickly as it had beckoned. you smirked a little and that made him grab the back of your neck again, a sudden possessiveness creeping into his lustful mannerisms. you lapped gently at his tip and were surprised to hear a whimper tumble from his flushed lips. he rolled his hips upwards and you took him in again, his cock twitching avidly in your mouth.

"fuck... you're gonna make me cum like that, little girl," he groaned, hiding his face in his other hand and sucking in his stomach involuntarily as you sucked tenderly on his swollen head. the pet name sent you whirring inside and you clenched your thighs together again, moaning softly as any thought of doubt was erased from your mind. his fingers found your hair and he pushed you down, pursing his lips as just a hint of your teeth gently breezed along his shaft. you bounced back up at the speed of his hand dunking you down again and soon he was letting out the finest sounds and biting them back, but ultimately failing miserably.

he lifted his hips one more time and gripped at your hair desperately, a string of profane praise escaping him as you felt him twitch once more. courteously, he pulled your head back as his milky release rushed out of him and landed on the side of your open mouth as you gasped for breath. he panted airily and pulled his hand away to wipe at your face. he wanted to thank you profusely when he looked you in the eyes— he wanted to give you a fucking medal! you smiled proudly at him, aware of how disheveled you probably looked, but he only shook his head in exasperation and kissed you as deeply as he possibly could.


	13. paul

3:00 am  
༊   
'70

him slipping through the bedroom door was what woke you. it was a peaceful awakening, though. one that only caressed you out of your drowsy repose. his bags and coat and shoes were already discarded downstairs. he recalled them seeming to fall from him one by one as he heaved through the quiet home to your darkened room. your heavy eyes slipped open slowly and the palm of your hand felt around on the empty bed. you had fallen asleep in your nightgown, awaiting above the covers for him.

"paul?" you called through a hushed voice, rubbing past the lingering sleep that still clouded the view of your love.

"yeah, go back to sleep."

"no- no," you protested softly, "i want to hear about your day..."

he saw the heavenly calling of your blanketed arms as they reached out for him to take solace in. he couldn't disagree with them. they were stubborn and conditioning; the warmest pair of arms he ever did see.

he crawled into bed and collapsed with the exhaustion of a thousand men, still sporting his spunky day clothes that always seemed to dull by the end of the week. they fell loose on him now as you embraced the supple curves of his round body, nose pressing to his grizzly cheek. he kissed you and it held every ounce of strength he was trying to pull together. for himself, for you, for them.

"they're forming some sort of alliance against me, i don't know..."

you shushed him and pulled back enough to get a look at him. those black eyes flickered open and pierced the darkness confined around you.

"i doubt that." you brushed back loose strands of thick locks lingering around his face and let your fingers grace his pale skin. there was still a cold tinge of the wintery breeze that carried on wistfully outside— it wouldn't get him this time, though it continued to parole the black streets waiting for a ruthless brawl. you cooed once he fell victim to the persistence of his drooping eyes and a lazy hum came from his tired lips.

"here, let me help you get undressed," you said and sat up to slip off his woolen sweater vest. his body responded limply, lifting and lowering his arms when necessary as his eyes blinked slowly at you and submitted to your carefulness. each button slipped through its hole with a snap as you pricked and fiddled at each one with the tip of your thumbnail, watching the greying collared shirt fall undone along your trail.

his trousers came off quickly and you contorted yourself against the bed to release his feet from the safety of his knitted black socks. it was a small gesture, yet it allowed for the morning quarrels, afternoon slip-ups, and evening rewrites to peel from him with an enfeebled ease.

"rest, baby," is what you whispered to him when he finally took you in his arms again like a large teddy bear all worn and tattered from too much love, too much undivided concern. he'd never believe in it, though. there was no such thing as too much.

you kissed his forehead and the weighty lids of his eyes and his bright cheeks. he seemed already fast asleep by the time you reached his lips, a weak pucker pressing back against you. it felt good to have your arms wrapped around him, to ensure his safety in your gentle bed. touching your cheek to his, you were relieved to be able to close your eyes again.

"you're doing your best... the best you can."


	14. george

dans le jardin vol ii  
༊  
'65

it was never dull in the garden. whether you were being tantalized by the great, fat leaves that spoke greenly to you from where they grew in the thick black dirt or laying among the sweet peas that hugged you with sweet melodies of the wind as it whispered past their fine white stems, there was always something special to behold. today was no different from those other days, though much more laborious and smoldering.

you were knelt side by side, garnering red roots slain from the summer heat, and tossing them behind you. he wore a scuffed pair of jeans and a baggy work shirt, the long sleeves ballooning around him with each gust of the humid air. the both of you wore sun hats, protecting your hair from frying like bloodied pork on the skillet. though you felt like an old lady, the number of times either of you suffered from sunstroke was enough to get you to wear the droopy things. and besides, it was fashion!

when you finished, and your fingers were gasping for life under the dirtied gloves you wore, george left and arrived back with two full glasses of golden juice in honor of the tautly pungent chinese oranges that plopped all over your yard in the wake of the new season. he crossed his legs as he sat beside you again and you took the glass he offered with a smile, cheering to yourselves with a pretty little clink of the rims as they kissed to your fortunes. to bounty. to life.

as he sipped, his eyebrows wiggled goofily at you and you couldn't help but giggle at him, your teeth colliding softly with the gape of the glass. you felt replenished as the juice colored your insides with a cold, tangy rush of felicity like the splatter of fresh paint welling from its christened canvas. there was nothing sweeter than the fruits of your own labor. you learned that quickly when you moved in with george.

"mm, how is it, my love?" he crooned, the titian bruising the white of his fangs as he gulped it down and smiled.

"wonderful, george, really. it's just delicious!" you marveled, shaking your head. examining the glass from afar, you glinted at the tiny specks of pulp still swirling at the bottom, connecting together and swimming under your gaze as you rocked the glass back and forth gently and watched the drink swish about.

"silly girl," he said, a teasing lovingness filling the air when he spoke. you grimaced endearingly and he met your forehead with a kind kiss, "my silly girl."

when you saw him next, he was leaning on his side, stretching his legs out and petting an array of fresh petals, still wet from the morning dew. you watched knowingly as he drew his lips nearer to the curious bud which seemed to be leaning into his mouth for his abundance of oxygen and warmth. he began speaking to it, quietly, unintelligibly and he smirked when he saw you gaze at him.

familiar with this charade, you found your own patch of flowers and cupped your mouth away from the precious onlooker a few feet from you. the two of you whispered to each of your little pupils, earning giggles and gasps from each one in your mind.

she has the world's prettiest eyes

i remember the first time he looked at me, i nearly fell to the floor!

she should wear those shorts more often

sometimes i never want him to stop talking... i could listen to him forever.

"i want to marry her."

"what?" your head cocked up as quickly as the english rains fell. your eyes went wide, though there was nothing short of a mad grin curled about your lips.

george scoffed, "oi! this is my secret over here, thank you!" he shook his head and fanned you away with his hand, rolling his eyes playfully.

"george! what did you say?" you cried, grabbing onto his pant leg and tugging at him urgently. you crawled up to him and straddled his waist making him thrust his head back and laugh, his belly chortling happily under your weight. when he looked at you finally, your hands pressed against his chest and he grasped your fingers in his own, speechless at the way your eyelashes blanketed his face without even touching him. he kissed your knuckles and caught them beneath his skinny palms, still cool from the sweat of the glass.

after a deep breath, he smiled again. "will you marry me, y/n?"


	15. ringo

can't resist me   
༊  
'64

there wasn't much for you to do but allow your mind to wander as you waited for ringo to finish up in the shower. how you wished to be able to run your fingers down his chest, to have his pillowy lips along your jaw; all steamy and wet within the walls of your tub. you humored yourself a little to accommodate the lingering desire revolving in your mind. you danced your fingertips along the hem of your nightgown, admiring the way it fit along your curves and moved with the subtle dance of your body whenever you adjusted your position. after a few more minutes you thought he'd never come out, your patience slipping thinner and thinner. but just as you began to believe your pleas were of no use, the water stopped its rushing outpour and the familiar sound of deep, soulful humming took its place.

before long, ringo arrived in the bedroom followed by a thick trail of steam not that different from the boisterous fans that chased him around outside. he stood completely bare except for the towel he was bundling up and swishing over his damp curls. your eyes immediately fell to his member, dangling freely beneath a fray of dark hair. your tongue was trapped between your teeth, begging to be unleashed onto your darling. how you wished to taste him; each waking alluvion of your spit making up the shape of his adorable little frame.

"have you seen my cologne, love?" he asked, padding over to the bed and tossing the towel onto the blanket beside you. you wondered, briefly, if it would smell like him if you pressed it to your nose. though only mildly distracted, you hadn't been able to register what he asked you until you remembered what time it was.

"oh... you aren't still going out are you?" you pouted, sliding your arm along the side of your body, perfectly framing your silhouette in a way that would easily grasp his attention.

ringo frowned back at you, "i promised them i'd be there." you could tell by the keen look in his eye that he wanted to ravish you. it worried you at times, his being so painlessly tempted. when he went to these gatherings, migrating from body to body in a foggy cocktail of women and booze, you sat at home and thought of his fidelity. whether it was mistaken or not to doubt it, he was a beatle. but he was your lover just as much as he was anything else, and he made sure to remind you whenever you felt troubled by his undeniable fancy for lustful chasing.

"i thought you wanted to spend the night with me..." you egged, leaning on your back and spreading your legs the smallest bit, eluding to the treasure buried between your thighs. your gaze didn't need to travel far to notice the slow rising of his elation as you continued to stroke his tender ego with your lavish maneuvers. he pressed one knee to the bed and began to crawl up to you, the sweet whirl of his cleanliness finding you quickly.

he kissed you tenderly. "of course i do, baby," he cooed, his venal hand already exploring the silky tiers of your belly and breasts. "but you know these things are important..."

you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him harder, ignoring his argument to quell your own teeming ferocity as it festered in warm waves below your hips. "you can't leave me now, richie... not like this," you pleaded, meeting his big blue eyes right as his tongue curled inside your mouth. he moaned as he tasted the soft ridges of your tongue, his lips fast and rough as he kissed you, inching himself between your parted legs.

you knew he would never try to resist you, nor you him. he was just so entranced by your sexuality, the mere scent that doused your lovely skin was enough to send him over the edge for you. he grabbed your hips hungrily and tested the soft pool of wetness that dripped from your beloved flower, still colliding his lips with yours. faint moans escaped you as he dug his fingernails into your sides possessively and ran his thick muscle along your pulsing nerves. both the party and his shower were quickly forgotten in the slick mist of your lovemaking.

"wrap your legs around me, baby... yes, that's it, darling, yes-" he had broken the kiss and eased himself into you slowly, his eyes casting between your bodies as your thighs clung to his waist. he witnessed your quivering legs, left shaking from the delightful intrusion. your toes curled as he stretched you and watched you take him all, engulfing him within your sex. ringo exhaled a long-awaited breath, one that had been trapped deep in the tombs of his arousal.

his quiet moans soon echoed yours as he plunged deeper, thrusting faster, eagerly chasing the release you would bring him. your hands grabbed desperately at the soft blades of his shoulders and you tugged him closer, whining coyly in his ear when he hit your sweet spot. he growled softly and kissed you.

"did i hit it, sweetheart? right here?" he mumbled excitedly against your lips before grabbing a hold on one of your thighs and angling himself a little higher, earning a jolted moan from you as your tongue swiped over his lips achingly.

"yes, yes, richard- fuck!" you cried, the shocks nearly too much for you to bear so quickly. you groaned in pleasure and gritted your teeth, shoving your head back against the pillow, unable to verbalize such delectable agonies any longer. and when you squeezed so beautifully around him, he realized he wasn't going to hold up either.

pulling away from you, he sat back on his heels and slammed into you passionately, building up a sweat along his forehead and chest, his throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed precious moans and delirious praise. when you came around him, he grunted, slowing his hips in a wet symphony of hard, deep strokes. his own release followed moments after and he was undone, crying out shakily as he painted your flora with his cum and rode out the glorious high despite the harsh twitching in his knees and stomach.

he slid out of you slowly, rubbing over your swollen lips and pinching your cheeks lovingly. "you knew what you were doing, didn't you? tempting me like that," he smirked. you just blushed and rolled onto your side so he could pull you onto his chest. and that's how you slept, rightfully, with ringo by your side.


	16. mclennon

[warning: minor violence]  
i do, my brother, i do  
༊  
'82

he said that it was all blue when he opened his eyes. a soft, hazy blue that could only have come from the moon's craning light through the sheer curtains that billowed over the windowsill. he liked to sleep with the window lifted just a bit.

there was nothing extraordinary around as his vision cleared and he could begin to make out the dark room. it was all arranged the way he had left it when he went to bed that night, untouched and quiet.

but he blinked once and someone was there. standing in the open doorway of his bedroom, they were just waiting. a stranger.

paul, in his right mind, would have screamed in terror and blunderingly questioned the intruder with trembling lips, but he just sat up under the covers and studied quietly. the figure wore a thick gown that fell to his ankles and covered his arms. all paul could see was white.

a head of long red hair cascaded down his shoulders and framed the thin, sickly head of the man who had yet to move. a pair of trademarked coke-bottle glasses remained tight on his discerning face.

because he couldn't see past the strong, aquiline nose that ran between his hollowed cheeks and stopped above a sliver of angry lips.

blind as a bat. that's what they said.

"'ow are ye', paul?" it spoke in a perfect scouse that was crystal clear with genuine warmth.

"'m fine, john," paul answered with that same warmth, though his voice was far away and misty. he was crying.

through the incoherent fog that suddenly appeared between them, he saw john's mouth moving slowly, but no sound came out. he would never get to hear that strange declaration again, not even in the nights that followed this.   
he could see his crescent eyes shining behind the reflection of paul's tender face. their eyes had both aged with wrinkles that marked them like the golden rings around an ancient stump which told the world where they had been; what they had seen; together.

in an instant, john was splayed on top of him and paul wrapped his weary arms tightly around the breathy body. he kissed his stubbly cheek passionately and closed his eyes as the ghostly hands touched his clothed chest and squeezed his torso as if he was assessing which one of them was truly real. they moaned together in absolute awe of each other, amazed that they could feel each other again.

they wouldn't have done this before.

"do you love me?" john griped, pressing his body against paul's, crazed locks of hair flying all over the two of them. paul tugged at it, the strands turning brittle beneath his grip. their arms and legs struggled against each other, kneeing groins and groping harshly at the other's shoulders. they wrestled like this until john begged the question again and his arms were around paul's neck, choking him.

had he been this cruel?

though paul wished to speak, his throat became clogged with trapped air and his nose could only recognize the rancor of his friend's anguished body. he clawed desperately at john's weathered garment and wheezed unpleasantly at his aggressor, but to no effect.

it was so hard to breathe and it was so hard to love him. but he did. he loved him, god, he loved him. loved him black and blue, loved him with his entire body and soul. forever.

through his suffocation and blackening sight, he whimpered out a response, shaking hands seeming to blend with the hard skeleton of john's pulsing shoulders.

"i do, my brother, i do..."

and then the white body vanished, as it was keen to do even in life.

and paul's bed was cold.

cold as death.


	17. nsfw / john

JOHN  
༊

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

well, john is rather inclined to fall on top of you for a few moments and then return to whatever he was doing before without remorse, or spoil you with so much attention immediately after that you need to peel him off you just to have a bit of wiggle room, there's no in-between.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

your eyes. he admires, and is almost envious of, the way that you can speak through your glances because, contrarily, he can never seem to keep his mouth shut to save his life. he watches your eyes when you make love, he watches your eyes when he's plucking at his guitar listlessly, watches them when you're with company and he's talking madly with his hands and arms and your sweet eyes encourage him and comfort him and tell him "it's alright, baby, i've got you."  
now, to be frank, he takes a lot of pride in his dick. though he's struggled with body image issues, he's grown confident in his member and uses it well.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he'll always taste your cum; you'll glance up and catch him sucking the glistening fingers into his mouth after he's pleasured you and milked every single last moan from your trembling body. he'll smirk before slipping them past your lips, reminding you of how good you taste.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he really wants to film your times together (for his personal use, of course). he sees a lot of your moments as almost cinematic anyway, so it's always in the back of his mind.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

he knows what he likes and he does his best to translate that onto his partners. but he still prefers you tell him what you'd like him to do, it makes it more fun for him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

his absolute favorite is when you're riding him while sat down in his lap because he loves holding you. he keeps his arms wrapped around your back and plants kisses all over your breasts and your neck while you grind your hips down, hands placed steadily on the sides of his face.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he likes to have a ball during sex and he'll giggle the whole way through if you let him (well, depending on how sober the man is). if he's gotten a bit drinky, he'll be a huge goof and roll you all about, making you squeal and push him away to avoid getting tickled or attacked with those wild lips of his. but in times where things are a bit more lucid, he's very serious and very intentional with every touch he gives.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

groomed is definitely not the word. he's quite feral down there and won't touch it if he doesn't have to. it matches perfectly with his beautiful auburn hair above and you make sure to tell him this, though you are always met with a playful eye roll and a scoff.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

when he really wants to take his time with you and appreciate you, he almost clings to you during it. he'll ask you to look at him, his eyes never wavering as his face contorts from the pleasure of being inside you and he lowers himself closer to your lovely face, breaths mingling as his parted lips hover over yours. when he breaks and buries his head into your neck, he cries out your name and you can feel your heart clench. sometimes he can't even believe you're real.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he never really feels like he needs to do it, but he finds it endearing that whenever he's got a bit of an attitude or has become slightly less personable, you suggest to him that he should probably go beat one off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

i'm sorry ladies and gents, but this man has a foot fetish. don't know why we're ignoring it! he's also a bit rough at times and he lets himself loose if you allow him (dirty talk, biting, grabbing, pulling, etc). and not to mention his slight voyeuristic tendencies,,,

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he's had you on the floor many times (even when he could've opted for the couch) which he really likes because he loves the thought of being able to take you absolutely anywhere, the dirty man.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

pull on his hair, start giving him neck kisses, or trail your fingers (or feet!) along his body while you're doing anything and that'll give him the green light immediately. *bonus points if he catches you wearing a sweater or shirt of his*

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)

he won't do anything too extreme that might result in losing consciousness or be in a situation where either one of you loses too much control.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

it's a half and half sort of deal. while he's a proud pillow princess, he also loves to 69. or he'll randomly get on his knees in front of you while you're sitting on the couch, spread your legs, and have you over the edge in a matter minutes.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he keeps a steady, in between pace unless you two had been roughing it up moments before. he prefers to go deep rather than fast, he wants to feel all of you and allow you to feel as much of him as you can.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

there's something about pressing you against a wall and holding his hand over your mouth while you fight your pressing urges to moan that really gets his blood flowing. he loves a good quickie, but he finds you and pulls you aside at the oddest times... you hardly complain tho!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

100%. he wants to have fun and test his limits in different, almost controversial, ways. he especially loves when you bring things up that you might want to try; you can see his eyes darkening by the second after you mumble your timid "john? could we..."

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he gets himself really worked up during the build-up of it all that he doesn't last that long during the first round, but he could go all night after that, even if it's just touching and kissing.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he likes to use your toys on you occasionally. if you're on your period he'll lay down on the bed beside you, take your vibrator, and press it to your sensitive clit under your panties. he'll watch with satisfaction as you writhe and whimper while he whispers, "it's alright, baby, let it all go" softly into your ear.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he'll tease you until he gets what he wants out of you either by lewd touches or saying off-color comments in public or letting his tongue linger a little too long on your inner thigh when he's going down on you, he just wants you to tell him how badly you want him and where.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

it's hard not to get a whine or moan of relief out of him when you're together. though he tends to be a little quieter about it, he doesn't censor himself and he makes sure that you don't either.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

'62

the evening rain battered down on the window, its heavy droplets muffled by the sound of sweet melodies. the sultry tune flooded the living room where a pair of lovebirds swayed side to side by the victrola. you had been trapped by the storm for hours and you had finally gotten the lovely grouch to dance after he'd been watching you perform so eloquently alone. he sauntered over to you languidly, surely sour that he couldn't take you out as planned, and welcomed your arms around his neck while his snaked around your waist. you'd been making goofy faces and playfully snide remarks to each other for a bit until john went quiet and sank his forehead onto your shoulder.

you rest your head against his collar and close your eyes. the motions grew a little slower, a bit sleepy, but just as rhythmic. he eventually drew closer to you, tightening his hold which caused a small smile to play across your lips. your eyes flutter open when you notice he'd began to leave lingering kisses along the smooth skin of your inner arm and you bite back a giggle as they travel up to the fabric of your dress that covered your shoulders modestly. lifting your head eagerly, he takes his time on your neck, his loving tongue grazing against your skin and bringing fire to your cheeks.

"tell me you're mine" he whispers hotly against the shell of your ear and your lips part in an attempt to catch your fleeting breath. his voice had startled you, yet it aroused a sudden fluttering within you that had been brooding with each passing song that played and each warm gust of breath that came from his throat as your waists inched closer.

"i'm yours, john" you reply without hesitation and nearly choke out a whimper of pleasure when he nips at the delicate flesh below your jaw in response. your quivering hands press against his large shoulders more firmly as not to lose him, as not to lose your closeness. his wet lips soon meet yours with a passion equivalent to a sudden reunion with a long lost something.

"say it again" he urges between feverish kisses and you repeat it over and over so willingly, your two clinging bodies sinking to the carpeted floor.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

quite average, he'd say, but it surely does the job.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

higher than the bluest skies above. he just craves sexual intimacy. he usually liberates himself of his clothes at home anyway and spending so much time naked makes him feel a whole lot sexier in his own skin which he desires to share with you all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

you'd usually have to cuddle with him for a little bit first or share some sort of cigarette before he'll fall asleep, but it doesn't take long for him to be out like a light.


	18. nsfw / paul

PAUL  
༊

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

such a sweetheart!! he won't let go of you until he knows you're okay or until he sees that you've fallen asleep. he'll get you water or run you a bath (he's getting in too, don't worry!) and then he'll go right back to cuddling on you, squeezing and kissing every bit of your softened skin.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

your belly is his favorite. it makes him feel so, so safe and tranquil when he gets to lay his head on it, peppering it with little kisses and gentle rubs. you always giggle when he's resting on your stomach and he flashes an innocent smile up at you before dipping his hand farther and farther down your hips.   
his favorite body part... mmm his eyelashes. don't think much more needs to be said about that. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he won't stop until you've cum at least once. he's a man of his word and he doesn't start what he can't finish. whenever you're about to cum, he's so encouraging and sometimes he'll nod desperately: "mhm, mhm, c'mon, baby" until you release all over him and he just praises you endlessly, a triumphant smile of his face.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he held a pair of your underwear to his nose while he masturbated once and he doesn't think he ever came with such mind-blowing force before.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

i'm convinced he could snap his fingers and make a girl cum at this point. he's done it all.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

for some reason he strikes me as a plain jane... missionary seems like it would be his go-to because he can do so much with it. and he just loves to watch your face while he's working into you, hands all over your body, his educated touch quickly eclipsing your ability to even speak.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he talks a lot during it so there's no way he doesn't have you giggling like crazy. he'll blow against your stomach and tickle around your belly button with his tongue. sometimes he'll give you cheeky little bites and come back up with a sweet grin on his face before leaning in to kiss you and, in the same breath, tell you how good he's gonna fuck you,,,

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he's probably the hairiest person you've ever met. he sports such dark hairs that forest all over his body, so there's no doubt he's got a proper jungle in his pants.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he always treats each time as a partnership between you and him. he is rarely ever one to zone out or get one-sided with his actions. he finds sex to be fun and he wants to make sure you're having fun too, so he's real sweet.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

when you're apart, he'll call you while he does it and you'll whisper all of the things you miss, all of the things you wish you were doing with him. he'll squeeze his hand around himself and groan softly into the phone, pleading with you to make him cum. you don't hesitate.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

definitely into body worship and some bdsm if not just the occasional light bondage.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

for some reason i picture him loving to do it in the car, right in the back seat, in some less sketchy secluded area.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

just you being you. the curves of your body, your smile, the way you walk with such an angelic knowingness that shows how strong you are; it really attracts him. so when you're all there for him to admire, sat down in his lap, he'll cradle you fondly at first before his desires get the best of him and he's rubbing your breasts and thighs and planting breathtaking kisses all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

he probably wouldn't be into being pegged. and he gets turned off when you're not in the mood and seem dejected, but he's never cross with you about it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

honey... he wrote the book. there isn't anything in this world that will stop this man from locking himself between your legs and FEASTING. that tongue works absolute wonders and he'll never hesitate to hold you down and go at it again and again until he's finished with you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he can go either or depending on the mood. it tends to teeter toward the sensual side, but he'll usually get rougher if you're rousing him to, or if he's had a bit of an off day.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

it's almost embarrassing how eager he is to grab you and throw you on a counter somewhere. sometimes he's tamer, other times he's on you like a bat out of hell.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

in some capacity, yes. he's likely one to experiment.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go all night depending on how many times you tug him back on top of you. he lasts pretty long too, so it's never a bad time.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he'll use your toys on you to enhance your experience with him. it surprises you how often he's willing to bring them out. he'll grind against the bed as he thrusts a slick dildo inside of you, watching as you curl around it and arch your back in utter bliss.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

it gets to a point where you'll audibly groan in frustration for him to stop being so mean. he'll bring his face in close, cupping your jaw in his fingers, his lips brushing yours with the lightness of a sweet wing from the bluest monarch butterfly and as soon as you've closed your eyes, he'd vanish before you, completely unashamed of the torment he's causing between your trembling legs.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

being the vocalist that he is, he surely makes enough noise. whether it be in the form of soft grunts or little moans, he is always expressive when it comes to intimacy with you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

'70 (mcbeardy)

with the world spinning around so quickly, you had no time to wonder how you'd ended up on the kitchen counter; legs spread, white knuckles grasping onto its cold edge as your lace panties dangled helplessly from your painted feet. he was going mad against your heat, exposing you to his wet mouth without remorse. all you could hear was crazed lapping and gracious slurps while all you could feel was your stomach clenching and your entire body trembling as your sensitive clit was ravished over and over by paul's wonderfully consummate tongue.

it wasn't long before his bright brown eyes met yours and broke you out of your pleasure-filled haze. he was almost pleading in nature, as if he was wishing your soul would spread over his lips and wash over his entire face like sipping a refreshing glass of lemonade. his arched eyebrows furrowed so majestically in response to your incessant cries and whimpers that he so eagerly pulled from you.

you fisted his hair and felt that warm, wet nudging press harder into your throbbing clit. he removed one hand from your thigh and slid it down your flowering folds and up into you, resorting to sucking on that reddening bundle of nerves. you could almost cry at the feeling, almost cry at the sight.

"you're so pretty, paulie. s'pretty" you whimper, pressing your quivering fingers to your lips and rocking your hips against his mouth as his talented fingers seemed to stimulate each pulsing nerve within you. he let out an airy chuckle and lifted his head up slightly, displaying his drenched mustache and wild beard below.

"you're pretty" he replies with a smile and presses his fingers deeper into the familiar warmth.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

he's pretty thick,,, and has got a real good length to him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty darn high. especially in a relationship because of the plethora of affectionate attention he receives from his partners. (basically, he's an attention whore)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

if he's not tired, he won't drift off for a while afterward. but your warmth tends to lull him straight to sleep, even on the days where he's totally buzzing.


	19. nsfw / george

GEORGE  
༊

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

he's very tender. he'll ask you if you need anything and apologize if he might've hurt you. shaking your head, you'd tell him there's nothing to apologize for, you loved it all. he'll smile shyly and kiss you and then probably go take a quick walk to recuperate.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

george loves your chest. not even just your breasts, but the whole space. your chest holds your heart and holds your love. he adores the heavenly zeal he gets whenever you embrace and he can have your bare skin against his, your loving energies mixing together so perfectly. you always remember vividly how during your first time together, he studied your naked chest, placed his gentle hand between your breasts and felt for your stuttering heartbeat before replacing his fingers with a soothing kiss from his lips.  
for him, his hair is definitely one of his favorite parts of himself. it's always been so well kept over the years and he's rather adamant about having all of the product he needs in order to maintain whatever style he's striving for. and, of course, he loves laying on your chest and feeling your delicate fingers card through his thick waves, brushing his scalp in a way that makes him purr deep in his throat.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he isn't very fancy with it. most of the time he likes to cum inside you unless you tell him not to. either way, his eyes will always meet yours when it happens and you watch as his face contorts in the most wonderful ways.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he's always wanted to make you squirt. he's heard other guys talk about how wildly sexy it is and how shocked the girls look when it happens. you're always a bit confused when he rushes to shove his fingers inside you at times, but you thoroughly enjoy the way he works them in and out of you, desperate to make you ejaculate.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

he knows enough and learns as he goes along. he always likes to grow better with his partners, but i think he's quite a suave lover.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

oh gosh, he loves fucking you from the side in a sort of spooning position; his sweaty palm lifting your leg up and sliding inside you, his breath so hot and eager in your ear. he believes it's the easiest way to get to your g-spot... you don't disagree.  
i also picture he'd be in tune with each chakra and have a more tantric approach to sex, so he'd be very conscious of positions with that in mind.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he's very serious because he takes your intimacy seriously. there's rarely any funny business with geo, he wants every single touch to mean the world.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he trims for neatness, but other than that he's not touching those wild curls.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he keeps you as close as possible and whispers such lovely things in your ear as he explores the different ways you clench around him. he lets you know exactly how much he loves you through gritted teeth and labored breaths. even if he's pounding you blind, you can feel each brush of his tender lips and each pulsing finger radiate against your soft skin.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he can live without it on a day to day basis, but one of his favorite things is to lay side by side and pleasure yourselves together.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

pRAiseeeee kiiiiink!!! he's a sucker for you telling him how good he's making you feel and he, in turn, will let you know how good you are. he also has to have a thing for biting,,, look at those TEETH!!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

it's hard to imagine that he was not making love in his garden constantly. it's a sacred place for sacred beings and he counts you as one of those above all. to see your body lying naked against the petals and leaves of his fortress makes his knees grow weak before you. after your first time out there, there was no doubt which was his most favorite flower in the field.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

kissing him on the face, touching him in some of his tender spots. or wearing something a little bit cheeky. he'll nearly die if you suck on his fingers, though. he can't keep himself in his pants when you're up to mischief like that.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

he won't do things when either of you is too intoxicated and he won't do anything that could cause you or him to get hurt.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves using his tongue to pleasure you. he's so willing to dip between your legs and listen to you come undone above him. he moans when you tug on his hair and press him further while his large hands are wrapped around your thighs. it's a beautiful sight, really. just as beautiful as his fist in your hair while you take his length so masterfully, your pretty eyes gazing up at him obediently as he bucks his hips and calls you his sweet girl.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

usually very slow and sensual, he likes to reach your highs together if it's possible. not to mention that his pace usually allows for multiple fun-filled positions.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

since he likes things to be private and intentional, he doesn't rely on quickies too often. usually, you'd have to pull him into someplace for him to even think of it, but even then it ends up being way longer than planned.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

most of his risky actions happen by pure accident. for example, once his tongue slid a little too high when he was eating you from the behind and to both his and your surprise you pressed against his tongue quite eagerly. he nearly came right then and there.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can go for one long round or maybe two in a row if he doesn't last as long the first time and isn't winded, but he usually doesn't need to go more than once.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he prides himself on the agility of his fingers. he can do it all with just two digits and some lube.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he hasn't quite mastered this skill yet, so he doesn't realize if he's teasing or not. you, on the other hand, find it absolutely hilarious to tease him and he's usually quick to grab you and tell you how much you "drive him crazy".

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he lets out such quiet, trapped moans usually. as it goes on, he lets out ragged breaths and choked gasps that you find absolutely beautiful.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

'66

it felt serene, his chest rising and falling against your back as your bare body lay between his legs, his lips planting warm kisses to your cheek and shoulder. "do you like that?" his voice mumbles so gently with the slow rhythm of his fingers sliding against your clit.

"y-yes" you stutter quietly, closing your eyes in desperation.

your thighs feel slick from a mixture of sweat and lust, grinding hips jolting forward into his touch, wanting more. his eyes remained on your body, surveying each upward curve and downward dip of the hips and breasts against him on the bed, all glistening with sweat from the intense heat of summer. the breeze from your window blew a chill against your hardening nipples and you could tell he wanted to take it further now.

you tilt your head back against his shoulder and feel his kiss on your cheek again, a finger dipping further down to your welcoming entrance. his breath was suddenly shaky and he wrapped one arm around your chest to keep you close. as he slipped a finger up to the knuckle, he parted his lips in awe. "you're so beautiful... my beautiful girl"

the praise falls on you like a steady rain and you moan wearily, pressing one hand to both of his wrists and turning your head to meet his lips in a passionately heated kiss.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

a little above average with an average girth. it's surprisingly very proportionate compared to everything else.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

it's not very high, but his arousal is quick to rise when he gets to spend enough time with you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

it doesn't happen very quickly. he almost gets a burst of energy afterward and he's up cracking jokes and telling stories. if it's rather late, though, he'll pull you onto his chest and conk out.


	20. nsfw / ringo

RINGO  
༊

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

he's a sweetheart! a teddy bear! i can picture him leaning his head upon his hand, stroking your hair and smiling so lovingly; making you laugh, fluttering his fingers on your hips to make you giggle and squirm. he'd stay up and talk for hours about anything. he just wants to be in your company for as long as time will allow.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

ass, hips, and thighs, baby!!! he's a classic man who's into the curvature. i feel like he enjoys his hands a lot too. they're strong and experienced and he holds a lot of power in them

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he loves to cum on you. he'll pull out and let it cascade all over your ass and back, just watching the way it paints your body so beautifully. of course, he'd want to see it on your face and chest as well, stroking it out on your cheeks and lips and admiring the steady dripping on your tongue.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he wouldn't mind submitting to you at all. he daydreams about his wrists being tied up in a pair of your silky nylons, your naked body rubbing all over him in ways he can't control (nor does he want to). he pictures you lowering your pussy down onto his face as he laps at you graciously, just delighted to be giving you the pleasure that you can command.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

oh, surely he knows what he's doing. he's got to, being a man of such girth! he's got excellent pace, mad fingers, and can sweet talk a girl right out of her panties in seconds flat. the boy's got it bad.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he's got to have his back-shots/doggy style. seeing you arched and ready for him gives him more pleasure than anything he's ever seen. reminds him of the dominance he has playing the drums. plus, as aforementioned, he just loves your ass.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he's actually quite serious. a lot of the times things start out as a joke like maybe you two are feeling a bit silly one day. you start chasing each other around the house, or getting yourself into a tickle fight, or some playful wrestling, but when he's in it... it's a whole new beast.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he has no reason to be ashamed of his manhood. i don't think it'd be unmanageable to begin with, so he leaves it be. (i'm team silver streak on the pubes)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

when he gets close to his climax, he gets real sentimental and starts talking madness about how much he loves you; how good you make him feel. and he's very intimate during foreplay, a lot of kissing and gentle touches before he starts growing fangs and sporting talons so to speak.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he stashes some of his more private photos of you in a special spot in his bedside table/in his suitcase when he's away and blows off steam with those. he grips them so hard that they've got creases and fingermarks all over them.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

spanking!!! & perhaps a slight pain kink (some encouraging bites on his shoulder/scratching down his arms really gets him going), he also loves dirty talk are u kiDdinG??? oh and, uh, he's daddy so,,,

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

anywheeere. give him a wall, a bed, a couch, a counter (many a time have you been late to events because a certain someone wanted to "accidentally" slide up against you from behind because he "couldn't help it, you just looked so precious in that dress.") sheeesh, if you've got time, you've got ringo.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

walk in front of him in one of those sheer robes while he's lounging on the couch and he'll be on his knees for you in a no time. he also likes to be beckoned and you are quite the temptress for the job. if he's not catching the hint, just tuck your finger under his chin and let your words linger in his ears as you tell him you're "going to bed, richie." chances are he'll be there before you will!

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

amongst other things, he's not that into choking. that'd scare him a little too much and seems a bit extreme to him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he likes to receive. it gives him so much satisfaction when you take his cock in any way. but he's never been too confident in his own skills, so you'd have to ask before he thought to do so on his own. sorry about it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

oh, he doesn't know slow most of the time, but that doesn't mean he can't control himself for ringo is very skilled in what he does. however, sometimes he's way too in his own head and your incredible sounds just encourage him to pound more out of you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he's a fan. while he's not pawing at you at all hours of the day, he'll likely get a couple in if it's more of a lazy day. there have been many moments where you've knowingly lifted your nightgown and straddled his lap during breakfast. he simply rests his tea down on the table and watches as you ride him right there in his chair.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

if you ask, he'll try anything. he's a thrill-seeker in that regard.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

depending on how long it's been, he's usually pretty average. he has great stamina if he keeps up his regular schedule, but he won't go for more than twice within an hour or so.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he doesn't have any and for the most part, he doesn't need to use any. once he found a toy of yours that was about his size, he got real smug about it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he's not too keen on teasing and he doesn't really think of it. he's usually straight to the point and likes for you to be the same.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

mmm not too vocal, really. aside from his breathy praise and soft groans, he leaves it all up to you so he can better adjust himself to get your screaming for him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

'64

"go slow, darling... let me see you..." he drawls, bringing his whiskey glass away from his lips. your eyes glitter at him from the end of the bed as you stand up again and place your hands along the silk belt of your robe, smiling.

he'd been waiting all night for this. you promised him that you'd model a new set that you'd acquired while he'd been away for so long. dragging the belt out of its bow, you open the robe slightly, exposing a sweet black lace that covered your breasts. blue eyes darken at you from where ringo sat up on the bed, lounging so beautifully. his body was growing tense despite the amount of alcohol he'd already consumed tonight. he wants to pounce and you can feel it from the way your hips instinctively react, swaying sensually as you lower the robe from your shoulders.

"i missed your hands, ritchie..." you muse, breaking eye contact and dragging your finger down your chest. you bring your body closer to the bed and he perks up like an attentive puppy but you don't allow yourself to go any further.

the robe slides down your waist, then your hips and soon pools lifelessly at your feet, exposing the black lace panties to match. his tongue nearly falls from his mouth, his jaw completely slack. you let him gather his composure, running your hands over your own body, making such beautiful shapes and motions with your figure; putting on a show just for him.

you hear the glass settle on the bedside table with a subtle scraping sound from his rings brushing the surface. you look up at him, licking over your lips and giggling when he hums, "get over here"

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

a fine body with strong, protective arms, a warm chest to rest your head on, and a pair of worldly legs that will carry you anywhere you need them to. but if you mean his dick? this man is breaking walls.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

it's not so much that his sex drive is high, but that his desire for romantic intimacy is. he always wants to touch you and be commanded by your tender loving. he's really under your spell in the most endearing way.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he's a bit nocturnal like mentioned before. it takes him a bit to fall asleep unless he's already tired from a full day of doing his other favorite kind of banging ;)


End file.
